


Turning the Page

by FuryTigresse



Series: After The Nightmare [4]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Bittersweet, Bittersweet Ending, Books, DMC 5 spoilers, DMC5 Post-Game, Dysfunctional Family, Family, Family Bonding, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Past Relationship(s), Post Devil May Cry 5, Post-Game, Spoilers, Vergil is a terrible dad but tries being better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-06 16:33:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18392165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FuryTigresse/pseuds/FuryTigresse
Summary: [Spoilers for Devil May Cry 5] About one year after Vergil and Dante came back from Hell, Nero asks Vergil to help him find his mother.





	Turning the Page

**Author's Note:**

> English isn't my first language, so feel free to tell me (politely please) if you see weird sentences!

Vergil released a pointed sigh, mildly annoyed. The first reason for his annoyance was entirely his fault: he had completely forgotten that Nero was going to visit him that day, and his son had shown up before he was done with his morning routine. It had taken a while to get used to the mundane, domestic life of a relatively normal person - two decades in Hell not helping anything - but, now that Vergil _was_ used to it, he had created some habits in order to go through the day, and he really disliked breaking them. Such habits included waking up very early, enjoying a cup of tea and a light breakfast with a book and some classical music in the background for at least an hour, then taking a shower. Styling his hair in his signature swept back look was his next priority, and that usually took thirty minutes to an hour, depending on whether his hair felt cooperative or not that day. Vergil would thus be ready about two hours after waking up, and Dante had given him shit for it during the month Vergil had stayed at Devil May Cry, but that routine was _his_ ; he had no plans to change it. He clung to it to keep his life in order, far from the chaos it used to be, and he did _not_ like it being interrupted.

Which brings us back to his annoyance. Nero had arrived a good hour before sunrise, assuming - correctly - that Vergil would be awake. However, being up and being ready for any kind of social interaction were two very different matters, so Vergil still had his hair down and hadn't even finished his cup of tea and breakfast when Nero had knocked on the door of his little apartment in Red Grave City. Hence the first reason being his own fault: had Vergil remembered that Nero was visiting, he would have been prepared way earlier, just in case.

However, the second and third reasons were Nero's fault: he had dared mention that Vergil looked a lot more similar to Dante when his hair was down, for one. Even if that remark was entirely true, any time was too early to talk about Dante, in Vergil's opinion. He'd rather take a punch to the face than have such a comparison thrown at him before he had even finished his morning tea.

Especially when the comparison was followed by a request like Nero's current one, which was the third reason for his annoyance: his son was asking him to come with him to Fortuna in order to search for... for a woman who probably hated him. In order to search for Anna.

Nero had specified that he wasn't particularly trying to start - or _re_ start - anything. He just wanted to see her at least once, maybe talk to her, maybe let her know that he existed. He also wanted to just know if she was still alive, despite the demons' attack on Fortuna before. Nero's excuse to ask Vergil was that his father was the only one who knew where to start looking for her.

"Come on, dad," Nero insisted when Vergil shot him a death glare. "You don't wanna tell me the details about her so I can find her, so the least you can do is to come with me."  
"I refuse."  
"Dad-"  
"I said no, Nero. I will _not_ go all the way to Fortuna for such a..."

He had been about to say 'foolish reason', but it was far from being foolish. Then, he had almost said 'trivial matter', but it wasn't really trivial either.

"... for such a thing," he sighed, annoyed that the words were failing him. One more reason to be annoyed. It was too early and he wasn't really ready to talk to anyone.  
"Aw come on!"

The way he was saying it, so similar to the way Dante usually spoke when he tried to get Vergil to do something for him, made the half-demon want to refuse even more.

"Nero-"  
"Stop being such a stubborn asshole for once and-"  
"Nero, insulting me will not make me very inclined to acquiesce to your request."  
"Coward. You ran from her once, and now you're trying to run away again."

Damn it. Nero was right, of course he was. Vergil didn't have much to retort to that. He didn't want to chase after memories, to maybe find out that they were twisted by his time in Hell, to maybe reach out for a woman who- well, he didn't know for sure if she hated him after what she had witnessed, and what happened to Kaiden, but he didn't really want to know it for a fact either, especially when taking into consideration that she had gotten rid of Nero, probably to avoid remembering Vergil. There was every chance she hated him and, even if she didn't, this whole thing between them had been a very long time ago. Just like he had told Dante after their fight on the Qliphoth's highest point. And trying to convince himself that he didn't care about any of this wasn't going to work. Just like his scowl, aimed at Nero, wasn't going to work either.

"Hey, you still owe me, you know that. It's not like I'm asking you to drive or anything," Nero grumbled. "I even refused Nico's offer to come along so that she wouldn't piss you off with her smoking habits and her big mouth."

_Oh._

"So bringing me back with you truly was your goal all along," Vergil guessed.  
"Well, yeah."

Somehow, this made Vergil both more willing to at least do something for his son, while also making him want to just get up and leave. Except that he couldn't do the latter since he was home, and the furthest he'd go without a shower and a decent hairstyle was the balcony. He wasn't going anywhere else without at least that.

"Come on, dad," Nero repeated. "Please? Unlike you, I don't even know what she looks like. I can't find her on my own."

That was completely untrue and they were both very aware of it. Fortuna wasn't that big. There were only two, maybe three libraries to look for. Just about everyone knew each other. Asking about 'Anna from the library' would probably give Nero an immediate lead. But he wanted his father to come too, for some odd reason.

"I know you're free today," Nero said with a little smirk. "You told me when I called you to make sure you wouldn't be working. Speaking of calls, your phone's voicemail message is still the default one, you should change that, it's pretty bad. Oh, and I know you close the store on Mondays."

Okay, _fine_. Obviously, this had been fully planned from the start. Maybe Nero had inherited some intelligence and cunning from him, after all. Although, the amused glow in his blue eyes as he teased his father about his voicemail wasn't from him, and it wasn't one he had copied from Dante. No, this little spark of pure amusement was definitely Anna's. Vergil sighed.

"Two hours." He got up and headed towards his bedroom. "I'll join you in two hours."  
"Two?! Shit, old man -"  
"Do you wish me to accompany you or not, Nero?"  
"... okay, fine, whatever. Good thing Nico ain't here then, she would've been bitching the entire time."

The young Devil Hunter got up and went out, probably to avoid being in his father's personal space while he was getting prepared. Vergil would definitely use that time to get his routine fully done, starting with another cup of tea and some quality reading. Being with other people in general wasn't what he did best, which was why he needed this moment after waking up to prepare for the day. Owning a small bookstore aimed at serious literature enthusiasts required more social skills than he naturally possessed, but this routine usually made him good to last the day, somehow. However, even his job wasn't as exhausting as spending an entire day with anyone in this somewhat dysfunctional family of theirs. Nero had seemingly not inherited much from him, personality-wise.

His _son_. It had been almost a year since his return from the Underworld with Dante, and yet part of him still had trouble coming to terms with the fact that he had a _son_. His own flesh and blood, his _heir_. Devil Hunter, like Dante. But more serious, with a _much_ shorter temper - similar to his own, in a way -, and a way of speaking - littered with curses and such - that probably came from growing up in an orphanage with tons of other kids giving him trouble for his unknown origins. Vergil had still seen Nero act sweeter sometimes, usually when Kyrie was around. Suddenly he was softer, gentler, and he smiled a lot more. In those times, Nero reminded Vergil of Anna.

Two hours passed in a flash, but Vergil was ready - as much as he could be - when he joined Nero in the van, the Yamato in hand, concealed as a cane just like he had done before, and like he did everyday when going to work. Vergil couldn't quite understand why they weren't just using a portal instead of a car, especially with Fortuna being so isolated, but Nero coming all the way to Red Grave City with no company just to be able to bring him back with him made Vergil refuse to use the easier and faster travel option, if only to avoid cracking their still fragile relationship.

"Ah, finally deemed me worthy of Your Grace's presence," Nero teased him, getting up from the side of the van, where he had been sitting with the door opened. He seemed a bit mocking, but Vergil could feel peacefulness coming from him, more than earlier, more than the other times he had seen him. One glance down allowed him to see the old, familiar cover in Nero's hand as his son put the book away, careful with it.

"So you _did_ read it."  
"Uh?"

Two pairs of blue eyes lowered at the same time to where the book now was, and Nero had a sheepish smile. "Well, _yeah_. I mean, you gave it to me."

That meant quite a thing. Vergil knew for a fact that Nero had barely even skimmed through the book between getting it and the time of the half-demons' return from Hell, so seeing Nero actually carry it around with the intention to read it, when he wasn't all that much of an avid reader... well, it felt good. It meant that they were heading towards better things. Vergil was far from being a good father, but he was working to be an acceptable one. And if it took agreeing to travel for hours to help his son find his mother, well, he was willing to do it. Willing to _try_ being better.

"I did," Vergil finally said. "If... if we find her, Nero, maybe it would be for the best if she does not see it."  
"Uh? Whaddya mean?" Nero asked as he settled in the driver's seat, starting the engine. "Thought you said that she loves William Blake's poems."

Vergil sat in the passenger seat, thinking hard about every word. How to explain to his son that there was a higher chance of Anna refusing to see them than accepting? She had gotten rid of Nero. Dante had told him about it while they were in Hell, told him that Nero had never known who his parents were until Dante had told him that Vergil was his father. After that, Vergil had interrupted his brother with a groan and a good smack in the face with the Yamato's scabbard. He had refused to think about it too much. The information had been filed away for later use, however, and that was how Vergil had known that one of Nero's first questions would be about his mother, back when he had just escaped from the Underworld.

Still... had Anna really done that out of hatred and resentment? Or was there more behind her actions? Despite everything, what they were going to do was the only way to really know. They'd ask her. This time, Vergil wouldn't run away from the truth.

"Dad?"

The half-demon only noticed then that he had never answered Nero's question. He took in a deep breath and settled with another piece of literature in hand.

"She does. Did. Never mind. I suppose we'll find out."

Nero shot him a long look, but shrugged and got the van going. He knew he wouldn't get all that much more from his father, at least not like that, and especially if he insisted. Vergil had a tendency to close himself from the outside world even more if someone nagged him too much.

"All right. Hey, what are you reading?"  
"I'm simply reacquainting myself with the classics."  
"And... what's the one you're into right now?"  
"This, Nero, is Edmond Rostand's chef-d'oeuvre, _Cyrano de Bergerac_. My neighbor has lent me a copy of the original script."  
"The original, uh? Isn't that thing in French?"  
"Evidently."  
"You can read French?"

Vergil sighed. He couldn't believe he was about to do this, but this part was so iconic he couldn't just not quote it. It wouldn't sound like him at all, but... part of him really wanted to do this. He was fairly certain that part was his drama queen of a human side, the crumbling man Nero had known as V.

"C'est un roc!... c'est un pic!... c'est un cap! Que dis-je, c'est un cap?... C'est une péninsule!"  
"Uh... okay? What does it mean?"  
"It is a part of the script. Bergerac describes his nose, which was apparently of singular proportions."  
"Oh. Okay. You know it by heart?"

Obviously, Nero had noticed that Vergil hadn't been looking at the book at all when he had quoted this. He did know most of it by heart.

"I suppose you can say that. It is of no matter."  
"Hey, don't worry, I think that's pretty cool."  
"You need not-"  
"And I'm not mocking you. I mean it. My memory's pretty trash, but yours? You can remember a _script_ , or at least part of it, and as if that wasn't enough you can remember it although it's _in another language_. That's impressive, old man."

There was a beat of silence, Vergil accepting the compliment and ignoring the 'old man', before Nero spoke again.

"Hey, was- um, is my mother like that too? Can she remember quotes like that and just pull them out of nowhere when the context is right?"

 _Was_. Nero had caught himself, but he had still said it. They didn't even know if Anna was still alive. They had to keep that in mind to avoid too much disappointment.

"She knew everything the library contained, although not in complete, absolute details, but she could quote Blake from memory," Vergil informed him rather than directly answered the question.  
"So she's like you. Where does my terrible memory come from, then? The postman?"  
"Father had a selective memory."

Nero briefly glanced over at his father, eyebrow quirked. That was the first time Vergil was telling him about his own parents. Dante did, sometimes, but for all he knew, his uncle had spent a lot more time with Eva while Vergil had more likely spent more time all on his own or with Sparda.

"Selective memory, uh," the Devil Hunter repeated. "Care to elaborate?"  
"He often remembered trivial things, forgot important ones. Mother laughed at him when he came home with presents for us, but not the item he had set out to buy to begin with."

Nero got comfier in his seat, still focusing on the road, of course. He'd never admit it out loud, but he actually really liked it when Vergil would accept telling him more about the past. His father was quieter, less prone to exaggeration than Dante, and there was often hidden meanings and stories behind his words, which Nero had learned to appreciate. It engaged his brain more. The story was less about entertainment, more about the lessons one could pull from it and the memories Vergil had in general.

"Yeah? He did that often?"  
"Often enough."

Vergil fell quiet again after that, and Nero barely contained a disappointed groan. Story time was over already?

"Father liked reading."

Ah! Not over. Nero couldn't help a smile. His grandfather had been a bookworm then. Vergil got that from him, it seemed.

"He would often tease mother if she protested while he was telling us stories."

And a goof like Dante. Sparda suddenly seemed a lot less legendary and a lot more... dorky? A lot more familiar and 'normal', at least. Less of a legend, more of a man. From the edge of his vision, Nero could see that Vergil was still holding the book, but not reading.

"Mother was patient. She _had_ to be, with my idiot brother being an attention monster."

Nero laughed at that. He hadn't expected some form of humor - even if that was just a jab at Dante's personality - coming from his father. It was refreshing, and he was glad to hear it.

"Yeah. She sounds like she was a great woman," he commented.  
"Yes," Vergil agreed.

***

A few hours later, Vergil noticed that they had just cleared the ferry to Fortuna and were now heading towards Nero's place. Surprisingly, that time had gone by much faster than he had expected. Nero had mostly been the one talking after Vergil had decided he had shared enough for the day, but boredom and annoyance had stayed away. The half-demon hadn't felt the urge to just stare at his book until his interlocutor would understand that he wasn't interested, and that was pretty rare. It wasn't just because Nero was his son, either. What the Devil Hunter said was, well, simply put, _interesting_.

Some of it had to do with the fact that Nero, being very aware that Vergil wasn't exactly socially at ease, was trying his best to discuss Blake's poems. He had read some of them several times, the ones that had caught his attention, mostly, and he had tried seeing more than just the surface. He had also apparently asked Kyrie for her input, and just that was enough to make Vergil stare out the window for a good moment, still listening but with part of him lost in thought.

Sharing literature delights with someone else was something he really missed. Especially with Anna. Her insights had been interesting. If she was still alive... well, Vergil wasn't naïve enough to think that there could be anything else than the past between them again, but perhaps she... no. No, it was useless to think about it that way. Mostly, finding her was about helping out Nero, and finally turning the page on this chapter of his life. If Nero wanted to stay in contact with Anna if they did find her, that was his choice, but Vergil wouldn't. Too much and not enough between them, all at once. It had seemed so important back then, and the memories of those happy times were there to stay, but Vergil was mostly still broken and unable to really get attached now. There would be no such kind of person in his life for a long time, if ever. He was strong now, probably strong enough to protect, but what would be the point?

Moving to Red Grave City wasn't exactly helping any of this, and everyone had tried convincing him that it was a bad idea to settle there, but everything else he knew was either too close to Nero or too close to Dante. Vergil wanted a safe space, quiet and peaceful, and he also wanted to witness for himself the destruction he had caused in the city, and the efforts to build it back. He couldn't really help, but... well, he was trying to atone in some way, if only by not running from it and not doing as if he had nothing to do with this. The rent was cheap, as well, as most people had flat out refused to come back to a city that was more ruins than anything else for now. Most people who had returned were old folks who had lived there their entire life and had only left because they were forced to. As grim as that was, Vergil did enjoy the ambiance of the city the way it now was.

"All right, here we are. It's doable on foot, right?" Nero asked as he stopped the van in the garage.  
"Yes."  
"Sweet. We can leave the van here then. I'll just go and let Kyrie know that I'm back, but that I'll be heading into town."

Nero exited the vehicle and practically ran home, leaving Vergil on his own for now. The half-demon took his time to step out and stretch his legs. They were in Fortuna all right. In the same garage where he had seen Nero for the first time. And where he had twisted his forearm right off to take back the Yamato. The memory was fuzzy, and it wasn't because he was specifically trying to forget. The pain he had felt back then had turned the world into a blurry mess, and splitting himself in two to later put himself back together had certainly contributed to make everything more difficult to remember than it should be.

Yet, most of what had happened before his first trip to the Underworld was clear, and Vergil almost wished his memory wasn't that good. What good could really come out of trying to find his son's mother? Except turning the page for good, that is. He could remember all too well the library, how to get to it. The sign, if they hadn't changed it. The smell of books, the quiet whispers of knowledge, of thousands of people who were ready to teach something to one willing to learn.

And the house. Small, nothing special about it on the outside, and neither on the inside actually, except that it was Anna's. Neat, kept tidy, it had been warm and welcoming, and it had smelled entirely of beautiful spring and light, just like Anna. There had been books in the living room, a fireplace in front of which stood the couch, and an armchair nearby. Anna's house had been a place of peace, a place of safety, and a place of foolish hope for things to be better in the future.

"Okay, I'm ready. We can go," Nero announced as he came back, pulling Vergil out of his thoughts.  
"We'll start with the library."

At this hour, if she was still alive, it was a surer bet than her house, and it was a little less weird - a little less creepy - to go there first anyway. Nero just agreed quietly, and they went to town together, two men with white hair and blue eyes, one with a silvery cane, one with a gun, since Nero kept the Blue Rose with him, but didn't bring the Red Queen everywhere he went, unlike Vergil, who rarely let the Yamato out of his sight. People did turn a bit when they saw them, but none of them felt too bothered by it.

What _did_ bother Vergil, however, was seeing the library's sign after barely five minutes of walking. He knew it was close, but he hadn't expected it to be _that_ close. Same sign, same name, so there they were. Same owner? Time to see.

The door felt weirdly familiar underneath his fingers as he pushed. A little bell rang, pretty quiet still in the silence of the library, but it still vaguely put Vergil on guard. That was different. There had been no bell back then. The front desk was where he remembered it. The rows were the same, but he spotted new tags, and the tables where one could work on their research weren't the same ones as before. There was a computer at the counter. Vergil took a deep breath, forcing down any form of hope he felt when he noticed a faint, very faint hint of spring and light. Anna had been there recently. Wasn't there now, no, the presence in the library was male, and it smelled of old person and sweat.

The owner of such a scent came out from between two rows, a stash of books in his arms. He seemed nice enough, albeit pretty old, tiny glasses standing on a big nose. He was squinting a bit, but he still greeted them, warmth in his voice and smile on his lips.

"Welcome to this humble library. Is there anything I can help you with today?"

Vergil's icy eyes seemed to keep the man where he was, as he didn't try getting any closer than he currently was. Good thing too, because even Nero's nose was twitching.

"We're looking for someone," Vergil finally said.  
"Her name is Anna," Nero added.  
"Anna? You mean the owner? She's usually always around, as she practically _lives_ in this library, but she's not here today and won't be here for the next week. She takes time off every year around this time, the only time when she does that. You're out of luck."

Something about that made Vergil's mind tingle, but he couldn't quite figure out why. He spent a second or two searching, and then his eyes landed on Nero. A quick mental calculation made him lift an eyebrow. Ah.

"Does she go anywhere?" he asked, looking back towards the librarian.  
"No, I believe she just stays home."

Vergil left after that without another word, thoughtful. Could it be? He wouldn't be surprised if Anna was one to honor past events in that way, but still...

"Hey, what the fuck was that about? You didn't even-"  
"She's not at the library," Vergil said, not turning around, letting Nero catch up with him.  
"I noticed!"  
"She must be home, then."  
"Man, I feel like a creep. It feels wrong to just-"  
"Make haste, Nero. This was your idea."

They soon reached the small house, the one Vergil so clearly remembered. It hadn't changed at all...

"Not gonna knock?" Nero inquired after a minute of Vergil just staring at the house from a distance.  
" _You_ insisted we do this. Go ahead."

The Devil Hunter rolled his eyes and went straight for the door. Vergil frowned as he moved back, observing without being too close, hidden in the shadow of a nearby building. He could see that Nero still had the book in hand. That wasn't for the best, but maybe- no, too late. The door was opening already.

"Hello...?"

The voice was hesitant. The woman in the doorway was wearing a dress, simple and white, nothing extravagant about it. She was pretty, although not the most gorgeous person around, and she had aged quite a bit, but Vergil's breath still caught in his throat as he watched.

It truly was her. Anna.

Nero was smiling a little awkwardly, oblivious to Vergil's reaction. He could feel the woman looking at his hair, then at his eyes. Yes, he had white hair and blue eyes. He was used to people noticing his hair first. But for someone to then notice his eyes, and stare like the woman did-

He could see the doubt in there. The doubt, and some kind of repressed hope, or maybe fear? There was a bit of everything in the woman's eyes. And Nero's first reflex was to show her the book.

"Are you Anna?" he asked quietly, hope flaring inside of him.

She nodded. Slowly. She was staring at the cover, eyes glued to it. She was breathing fast and hard, Vergil could hear it from where he was. Nero, being closer, could hear and see her pulse quickening.

"This is... this is his book."

Her eyes flew back up, took in the white hair and the blue eyes again. Her expression was a mix of so many things it had become unreadable. "And you are-"  
"My name is Nero. Son of Vergil."

 _And yours_ , he almost said but didn't, letting her realize who he was.

"I was named this because they found me in a black blanket, back at the orphanage."

_Surely you remember that blanket. You were the one who left me in it._

Anna slowly shook her head, her breath turning into soft gasps. A tear rolled down her face. She touched the book Nero was holding, the same respect as before marking her actions, before she reached out slowly, gently, in order to touch Nero's cheek. Fingers delicate as feathers grazed his skin, warm and shaking a bit. Nero found himself fighting back the urge to lean into the touch. He needed answers first.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I-"

She looked away and wiped her tears, trying to regain her composure. When she spoke again, her voice was firm, but still sweet and tender.

"Nero," she said. "If you bring me this book, and you know about Vergil, then does this mean he..."  
"He gave it to me," Nero said while Vergil walked closer, finally letting Anna see him.

She opened wide eyes when she saw him. Her entire body language was screaming that she wanted to run to him, maybe hug him, but she didn't dare. Vergil's jaw was tight when he noticed that. It didn't seem like hatred. But maybe fear. She wasn't approaching him. And yet, he couldn't help but relax in her presence, unable to stay angry or stressed out. She had this effect on him before, and it seemed like it had never fully left.

"Vergil..."  
"It's good to see you again, Anna."

It was Nero's turn to be surprised. He had never heard Vergil use such a soft tone before, never seen him look so... gentle. He didn't even sound annoyed, which was the weirdest thing he had witnessed so far when it came to his father. Wow.

"You found him," Anna said softly. "Our... our son."  
"It's a long story."  
"Then maybe you'd like to come in? I'll make some tea. If you have time, and if you want- I mean, I know you probably cannot forgive me for-"  
"Lead the way," father and son said at the same time, interrupting her. They looked at each other, Nero with surprise, Vergil with quiet acceptance.

It made Anna smile though, and she nodded, heading inside. Nero went in first, and Vergil followed, closing the door behind him once he was in. His first reflex was to take his coat off and put it in the same spot as back then, the Yamato next to it. He then looked around, noticing the same scent as before, noticing that almost everything was the same, except for some new appliances. But the place was still warm and welcoming. He recognized the kitchen table, his favorite spot around it, where Anna placed a cup of tea and a book for him in the morning.

There was a bit of a darker stain left in the wooden floor near the entrance. He didn't remember it. But he knew what it was. This was where Kaiden had been killed.

Anna noticed his gaze after putting some water to boil. She smiled sadly.

"I didn't hate you for it."  
"Maybe you should have."  
"Vergil, no. I was scared. Just scared..."  
"Is that why you got rid of me?"

They both turned towards Nero, who was standing to the side, quiet until then. They had both somehow forgotten that he was there too until he had spoken. Anna lowered sad eyes.

"Part of it, yes. When Vergil left, everyone said that the demons had come because of him. Because he's a demon too. They all saw, that day. They said that we'd be fine, once he left, now that he was gone. And then, I found out that I was pregnant. I thought- I thought it would be dangerous to keep the child. To keep _you_. The Order of the Sword would be able to protect you, more than I ever could."

She frowned, shaking her head.

"And part of me was angry. Not hateful, but angry. Vergil's presence had taken the last of my family away from me. I wanted to forget, but I couldn't. And I bore his child- what was I to do? Unmarried, alone, no family. Now everyone knew I had let Vergil stay with me. If I had a child, everyone would know who the father was. I'm no saint. I didn't want that kind of stigma."  
"So it was all right for me to be called the bastard child of a prostitute, as long as nobody knew you were the one who gave birth to me," Nero accused, frown on his face.

Anna shook her head again. She had deep regrets, they could both see that, but her voice was still firm when she spoke again.

"Nero. I thought about it many times over the years. I thought about coming to the orphanage and adopting you, getting you back, and without anyone knowing I was truly your biological mother. But I usually stay at the library for most of the day, and only come home to sleep and eat. It wouldn't have been an ideal way to raise a child, with an absent mother, or stuck in a place where one cannot run or laugh or speak loudly. You need to understand that-"  
"I get it," Nero sighed. "I wish I didn't, but I do."

He headed towards the door, looking disappointed. He needed time to think about this, time to see what he would do next. He left after that, Vergil quirking an eyebrow, surprised. Nero was impulsive, that much had been obvious, but he hadn't expected such a reaction. Then again, he supposed it couldn't be helped. Nero had expected something else. Or at least hoped for it. Now he had found out the truth, and he couldn't just accept it quietly, not yet at least. The older man turned to look at Anna, who was just done pouring the tea, her eyes filled with sadness. She prepared his cup just the way he liked it, and he accepted it, if only because he couldn't bear to see her being upset in such a way, and he knew it would make her happier if he at least accepted the drink.

"I'm sorry," she apologized quietly. "I could have lied, told him that I was forced to get rid of him, but this isn't me."  
"I know."

They drank in silence for a few minutes. When Vergil finished his cup, he put it down. Icy blue eyes met Anna's sad ones.

"Anna-"  
"Don't. There's no need to say it. I know."

Fond memories were only that: memories. Anna felt it too. It felt even truer now that they were standing next to each other, just the two of them, just like before, and there was no flame to be rekindled, nothing to push them towards each other. They had changed too much. Their paths had crossed, given birth to Nero, but the future would not bring them in such a direction again.

"Nero was born around these days, wasn't he?" Vergil ended up saying. "That's why you take some time off, away from the library."  
"What tipped you off?" she chuckled sadly.  
"The librarian told us about you taking some time off at around this time every year. Simple calculations did the rest."  
"I see. Well, then maybe you can do something for me. And for him. His birthday is tomorrow. Will you let him know in my stead?"

Vergil grabbed his coat and put it on, silent. He then grabbed the Yamato, and looked at Anna once he was ready. The human in him was mourning as the page was finally turned. The demon, for once, had nothing sarcastic to reply.

"I'll see what I can do. Farewell, Anna."  
"Farewell, Vergil."

She walked to him, reminding him so much of before, of how she had always approached him with no fear, no hesitation. She offered him a hug, to which he responded after a second of surprise. He then felt her lips on his cheek. Compromise. Nothing like before, but no hard feelings after everything.

"Thank you, Vergil," she murmured in his ear.

***

Vergil left after that. He went directly to Nero's house, reaching it before his son, who was no doubt venting somewhere, angry at himself, most probably. The guest room had a bed, a chair and a desk, and Vergil sat there after he borrowed some paper from Kyrie. He pulled out a fountain pen from the inner pocket of his coat - a beautiful, yet very functional tool of Japanese design, similar to the Yamato in so many ways, a gift from Kyrie and Nero for Father's Day - and started tracing elegant lines after a little warm-up, enjoying the feeling of the page underneath the nib. Reading was one of Vergil's favorite pastimes, but what very few knew of him was that calligraphy was another one. He suspected Kyrie to have been the one to guess that about him.

Feathery light upstroke, firmer down stroke. The gold flex nib's line variation came out to play as Vergil traced the letters, one by one, taking his time, his mind fully focused on the desired results. His hand was as precise when dealing deadly blows as it was when forming the words, and he was almost done by the time Nero found him. He heard his son behind him, but didn't turn.

"Hey uh, dad? About earlier... I..."  
"I'll stay until tomorrow evening, Nero."

That stopped Nero from saying whatever he had been about to say. Vergil? Sleeping over? Keeping his little store closed for one more day for no reason? But, mostly, accepting _being around people_ who had a tendency to tease him for longer than strictly necessary? No way. Nero kept expecting Vergil to say that he was just kidding, but no, that didn't happen, that _never_ happened. He had a theory that Dante had inherited everything even remotely close to a sense of humor, leaving Vergil with none. Usually, it pissed him off a little, but in this kind of situation?

"Okay," he found himself saying very simply, surprised but in a good way. He wouldn't complain about seeing his father for a bit longer, especially when taking into consideration the fact that Vergil had the Yamato and could just leave whenever he got tired of being there. And he wouldn't admit it out loud, but it felt pretty good to know that his father wasn't blaming him for his disappointment towards Anna. He was relieved to have finally met her, but disappointed that she wasn't like he had imagined her to be. Admittedly, Nero had kind of idealized her in his mind. Vergil hadn't gone into much details when talking about her, so the young Devil Hunter had imagined the rest. It wasn't a surprise that the reality was pretty different. It would take some time for him to come to terms with this.

Noticing that Vergil had no plans to move from where he was and what he was doing, Nero huffed and leaned against the doorway. "Either way, you're in luck, dad. Kyrie has already started making dinner, but she always makes too much, so you won't be starving tonight just because you didn't tell us you were staying."

Vergil paused for a brief moment, a small frown on his face. Somehow, this sounded... familiar.

' _What is it, you hungry? Well, you're in luck pal, 'cause food's ready and Kyrie always makes too much._ '

Nero had said something like that before. It felt like an eternity ago. And Vergil's answer had been to take back the Yamato. Yet, Nero had been willing to give him another chance at being an acceptable father. There was no doubt in Vergil's mind that his son would consider giving Anna a second chance as well. It might take a bit more time, if only because he didn't think Nero would just get into a swordfight against Anna, and fights seemed to be the only way their family used to truly bond quickly.

"So, anyway, you plannin' on hiding up here until food's ready? I uh... never mind."  
"I'll finish this first, Nero." He paused. "After that, we can spar, if you wish."

He heard the grin and the relief in Nero's voice. "Sweet. All right, see ya in a bit then."

His son soon left him alone, and Vergil finished what he was doing. He let it dry, then used the Yamato to drop it off in Anna's mailbox, with no signature and no return address. When he came back, he joined Nero for some Sparda-descendants-style family bonding, feeling more peaceful than he had thought he'd be as he beat Nero this time, like most other times they fought without Dante being there to weaken him first. Eventually, he'd need to find a minute to tell Kyrie about Nero's birthday.

The day had started pretty badly, but Vergil was glad he had actually accepted helping his son in his quest to find Anna. It had been worth it. It felt good to finally be able to turn the page on this chapter of his life. Despite everything, Anna had thanked him. Vergil hadn't, but he had found another way.

He was a man of few words. But the few he had, he chose to write in elegant calligraphy, traced with utmost care. Those words had really started everything, had led him into Anna's arms, had led them to conceive Nero. It had truly all begun when he had, Anna by his side, read The Smile by William Blake.

 _It only once Smild can be_  
_But when it once is Smild_  
_There's an end to all Misery_

**Author's Note:**

> Using Super V to beat Vergil in Bloody Palace = bullying a traumatized guy with his own nightmares while constantly telling him "NO ESCAPE!". I don't care what anyone says, poor Vergil has the right to be a little softer after everything he went through xD I tried keeping him in-character, but I feel like he has to have changed at least a bit (softened up just a touch?) during the year spent living a mundane life. :) Do let me know if you think I could maybe add some things to make him feel more like Vergil though! I try to honor such a badass man the best I can xD


End file.
